


The Logistics of Heartlessness

by typical_art_dork



Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: F/F, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typical_art_dork/pseuds/typical_art_dork
Summary: Janis has remorse down to a science.She's a monster, after all. Exit KILLER, end scene, roll credits.





	1. Malicious Intent {Prologue}

It always starts at the end.

A deep, demented buzzing at the base of her skull, humming, persistent. It gnaws at her, the guilt, like the rat she saw chewing through some poor kid's lunchbox last Tuesday. She clenches her teeth, tries to bite back, bottle up, bury the remorse, but it's only growing now, doubling, tripling, coiling in her chest like a python, twisting impossibly. The fury that's lodged itself in her chest is almost animalistic now, an infernal, unearthly wretchedness. Her hands curl into fists at her sides, and her untrimmed nails bite crimson crescent-moons into her palms. Why is it like this?

Why does it have to be like this?

In truth, she's never understood other teenagers, but she's never done anything like this before. Her eyes squeeze shut until hazy splotches of color paint the backs of her eyelids and the buzzing grows louder. It is unending, like the heartbeat under the floorboards in the Edgar Allen Poe story she read in English three years ago, pulsating, relentless. It's almost maddening. Finally, she lets her eyes flutter open and drift to the floor, resting on the physical manifestation of her now-quite-plausible insanity. 

Regina George, crumpled in a heap, blood seeping from a bullet wound to the head. It's fitting that only Death could dethrone her, Janis thinks. Of course technically, it was Janis herself that did the de-throning, but the previous line sounds much more poetic. She makes a vain attempt to tear her eyes away, but something about it makes her gaze linger. The sheer goriness of it is alluring. The vulnerability, the humanity, is what strikes a chord in her. It was like she forgot Regina could bleed, or cry, or stop breathing. But here she is, dead on Cady's kitchen floor, blood leaking into the cracks in the tile like tiny rivers of liquid regret. 

Janis, nerves on fire, veins pumped full of adrenaline, lowers into a crouch to retrieve the gun from the floor. She clicks the safety on with trembling fingers and locks eyes with the only other person in the room. 

What would this whole spectacle be without Cady Heron, anyway?

Janis takes a cautious step towards her, and Cady doesn't flinch away, so she proceeds with caution.

"I had to."

Cady's eyes well up, and her voice comes out hoarse, like she's choking on the air. Makes sense, her ventilation system sucks. 

"Y-You didn't, though."

"She was going to hurt you, I had to, Cady."

And then she's in Janis's arms, sobbing against her, perfectly-manicured nails clawing at the back of her shirt and clutching onto it like a lifeline. Janis ignores the buzzing and does what she does best when it comes to Cady- calm, soothe, comfort, repeat.

"Wh-what are y-you gonna tell the police?"

Nothing. Everything. A profoundly poetic story about how tragically depressed Regina George really was, deep down. A long, emotional, artfully-spun, exceptionally gruesome fairy tale of lies. She'd been suicidal since middle school, "I was her best friend until she abandoned me, Officer, I guess the guilt just tore her up." Burst into (fake) tears, ask (use the ugly-crying voice!) for a tissue, exit Janis Sarkisian, roll credits. 

"I'm not sure yet." 

Cady buries her face in the crook of Janis's neck, and the buzzing works its way into the core of her skull, pitch increasing, a distorted lullaby of culpability. It reminds her who she truly is, beneath the outer shell. 

MONSTER. Vicious, macabre, warped, wicked. 

-

It's, predictably, the talk of the town on Monday. Regina was depressed, Regina secretly loathed herself and was only cruel to everyone to boost her own self-esteem, Regina Regina Regina. 

Did you see her suicide note on Instagram? Did you hear what her mom said about her in the news? Do you think she just did it for attention? It's a nagging, burning sensation now, tugging at Janis's psyche in the middle of pre-calc. The guilt, that is. She begins to worry she will always be a slave to it, and then she wonders idly how weak that makes her.  
Suicide gave Regina a heart, a soul, and a motive behind her madness. Of course, it wasn't actually a suicide. Janis thanks the Universe that she'd seen Heathers at fourteen. Movies don't create psychopaths, they just make psychopaths more creative. 

So, really, Janis thinks- she's done Northshore a massive (ha!) favor by beheading the queen herself. Through Death, Regina has achieved the power over Northshore that she so desperately craved but could never have while alive. Death gave her depth. Death gave her feelings. Death gave her influence. It gave her all the power without the harm that would have undoubtedly followed in its wake were she alive. Off with her head, indeed. 

It's more difficult to ignore the buzzing now, though, despite Janis's attempts to humanize- even romanticize- what she's done. The rumor mill only magnifies the humming, and she worries she'll collapse the next time she locks eyes with Cady in the hallway. They're in it together, she tells herself. But the truth is- and Janis hates this part, she hates the truth for rearing its ugly head- she's dragged Cady into her own mess yet again. Cady is a bystander, Cady is a victim, Cady is innocent, Cady Cady Cady.

 

In fifth period, Janis throws up. The school nurse chalks it up to intense emotional stress, and dismisses her early.

Intense emotional stress is right. Janis is a MONSTER. Exit KILLER, end scene, roll credits. 

-

It's back, that night. The buzzing. The gnawing. The GUILT SHAME REMORSE REGRET REPENTANCE CONTRITION and she can't breathe, suddenly, and her mind is reeling with panic and she SWEARS SHE HEARS BUZZING.

Janis blindly reaches for her phone on her bedside table, dialing Cady's number with shaky fingers and waiting, waiting, waiting.

"Janis? Are you okay?" 

No. She's a monster.


	2. The Before {Cady}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the beginning, it's them against the world.

1991

THE BEFORE

CADY

 

It's 6:00 in the morning when I walk into the main building of Northshore Prep, eyes darting nervously, hands trembling in the pockets of my cardigan. I am the prey, in more ways than one. Innocent, not yet corrupted. They swarm around me like hornets, eyes wandering, eyebrows drawn together, inspecting the new specimen. They are the sculptor, and I am the clay. It's up to them to decide who will mold me, make me over in their image. There's a kind of ache deep in me to belong, to have a place in this sea of infernal chaos- it's spreading like a flame, burning up my insides like someone's lit a match in my chest. 

I keep my head down, avoiding their scorching, scalding, searing stares burning into me, my head buzzing with excitement. It's three periods later that I see her for the first time. 

"So I'm guessing you've heard about this town before." 

It startles me, the voice, and I whip my head around, eyes darting to linger on the girl seated next to me.  
Her eyes are kind and inviting, mouth quirked up into a half-smile. I have this overwhelming, burning desire to be her friend, and so I rack my brain for an answer to her question that's the perfect blend of witty and sarcastic. 

"Uh... yeah. Yep! What, um, exactly, are you referring to?" 

Not my proudest moment.

She seems to find it cute, though. My awkwardness, that is- because she cocks her head to the side, smiles, and invites me to sit with her at lunch. Her name is Janis. 

-

Halfway into lunch, we're talking comfortably, and her eyes are alight with something I can't place. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel wanted.  
The longer I talk to her, the more I want to be her. She's a city girl at heart, she says, but when she was nine her parents got divorced and since her mother won custody (she says 'won', like she's a prize, a trophy) she was forced to move to the "pits of suburban Hell" for a "fresh start". The way she speaks is enamoring in itself, like she knows exactly how to draw you in, regardless of who you are. Janis says real life is a bitch no matter where you come from, though. The city, the south- the pain still tastes the same whether it's in the heat or in the cold. Metallic, biting. 

Here, she says, it's different. She's different, or at least that's how people see her. Janis says this town is off it's own rocker. People think rock music is dangerous and the gender of the person you love matters. She says, "That's bullshit." She says you ought to be able to choose who you want to spend the rest of your life with based on personality, not appearances or gender or race. I like it, hearing her vent. It's like living your whole life underwater and then finally breaking the surface and taking the first gulp of air. I think I've been living underwater this whole time. Maybe she has, too, because she looks at me the same way I look at her.

By the time lunch is over, I know nine new words and I am certain of one thing.  
Here are the words:

PATRIARCHY  
FEMINIST  
MISOGYNY  
HOMOPHOBIA  
REDNECK  
SUBURBAN HELL  
NIRVANA  
ORIENTATION  
CLASSIST

Here is what I am certain of:

I am in love.


	3. The After {Janis}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The After

1993

THE AFTER

JANIS

 

If you really want to know the grisly, ugly truth, Cady, here it is: I lied to you. 

And I know you're probably thinking, "Why would Janis do that?", and it's because despite everything I've told you, and all the moments we've shared, I AM STILL THE SAME MONSTER UNDERNEATH. You never knew the real me, and I pray to God every night that you never will. Because despite what you might think, she's ugly. Ugly, ugly, ugly.

Here's the first lie I ever told you: I'm from the North. 

I'm not a city girl, Cady. I used to live by the beach, in the Bad Part Of Town, where crumbling brick met streetlamp-lit drug deals and petty crime for petty cash. It isn't like the magazines and T.V. shows want you to believe- the beach, I mean. The few times I actually went, it was scorching hot and unbearably humid, and swimming in the ocean was like stepping into a murky hot-tub full of seaweed and shells that cut into your heels and who-knows-what-else. In summary, the beach was not fun. Neither was the town. Eventually, we were evicted- my mother and I- and we came here. Land of rednecks and homophobes. Satan's armpit. 

Not much better, but at least I have a roof over my head and decent air conditioning.

The second lie was this: I didn't mean to kill Regina George. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  
My point is, I didn't lie to hurt you. That was never my intent. I did it because I needed to protect you. From other people, from the big bad world, from myself especially. I love you, I really do, and THAT is not a lie. I pinky-promise.

Now that we've covered that, it's my turn to ask you something.

Why did you stay with me?

God, it ruins me, just thinking about it. You STAYED WITH ME, and THAT was your big mistake. If you had gotten far, far away, I swear it would've been so much better for the both of us. Maybe not immediately, but in the long run, we could have prevented so much. We could have stopped it all from happening. But dwelling on where we went wrong won't bring Regina back, and it won't fix any of the shit that's happening right now, either. I just want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. 

You were the first good thing that happened to me that year... you and your dumb flannels and dorky vests. You made me believe, even for a fraction of a second, that there was still good in the world. And maybe that sounds dramatic, but it's the truth. I'm not lying this time. I love you. I always did, and I think I always will. 

But I'll never be able to escape my mistakes. They're too heavy of a weight to keep carrying around.

I'm sorry.


	4. The After {Cady}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how did he find out?

1993

THE AFTER

CADY

 

To be completely honest, (we both need to work on this!) I don't know what to say. 

Not to you, or my parents, or the police.

And it petrifies me that you think you're some kind of monster. Because you're not, Janis, you're really not. And before you write back with some angsty retort about how I'll never know the "real you", that's bullshit and we both know it. Whether you like it or not, I KNOW YOU. You're not a monster, you're a lost, scared girl looking for a way to escape her shitty life. Underneath, we're all ugly. Don't you understand that? You aren't special, you're just like everyone else. We're all hiding things, we're all broken. It's not rocket science.

And I stayed with you because I KNEW THAT. I knew you needed someone, and I wanted to be that person. For you and for myself, because I was scared and lost and broken, too. I still am, there's no going back from that. It's like you said- dwelling on it won't fix it. So don't. 

Another thing- I know you lied about the city. Maybe not immediately, but over time I noticed you had the same slight twinge to your voice that everybody else here did. I noticed a lot of things about you. 

And I also knew you meant to kill Regina. That much was obvious from the start. I saw the vendetta in your eyes, and part of me accepted it. (Don't tell anyone, but it was kind of... alluring. Watching you protect me like that. And that's all it was, offing her. Protecting me. Same difference, in the end. You killed two birds with one stone. Er, gun.) Anyway. I saw through your little disguise. The careless demeanor and the cutting comments, the sarcastic tone of voice and the flippancy with which you spoke- it was all a mask. I knew that. I might be naive, Janis, but I'm not stupid.

Anyway. I have to go now. They want to question me again... I hope you're doing okay. And before I go, one more question.

How did he find out? (You know exactly who. No dancing around this one, dear.)


	5. The Before {Janis}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expect the unexpected.

1991

THE BEFORE 

JANIS

 

There are three faces we show throughout our lives. I read it in some proverb... Anyway. There's the face we show to our loved ones, the face we show to the world, and the face we show only to ourselves, which is who we truly are, underneath all the perfect smiles and rosy cheeks and bright eyes. I hate it, how people pretend they're someone they aren't all the time- but then again, I myself am the worst offender.

It's Monday, and I see her in homeroom. Red hair, cheery disposition, cuffed jeans, genuine smile. I'm hooked. The first authentic human being at Northshore, and she's a 5'2 ginger who smiles at EVERYONE. I love her instantly. Of course, our school is a shark tank, and she's a diver with an open wound in a busted up cage. I have to reel her in fast before anyone else gets to her first.  
I plop down beside her in third period and promptly introduce myself. She looks me up and down- not in an I'm-undressing-you-with-my-eyes way, but in a more curious, naive manner. It's flattering, and she's sweet. So I ask her to lunch.

What follows is a lunch period very well spent. I spin pretty lies like cotton candy, and my audience of one eats them up like I'm introducing her to an entirely new world. Of course, I suppose I am. She's been homeschooled her entire life (can you believe it? SIXTEEN YEARS.) and she has no earthly idea what she's doing. So I offer my guidance and expertise in the form of an undying friendship (and maybe more, but that's in the fine print), and she accepts wholeheartedly. 

Alright, do I feel a little guilty about using her? Yes. Actually, it sucks. But Cady Heron is my segway into the revenge plot of the century, and it's not like our friendship is fake, either. I actually really enjoy her company. Maybe a little too much. And anyway, she really seemed to like me, too. I hope everything goes as planned and we can still stay friends.

But then again- life's a bitch. We probably won't. 

I'm making my way to fourth period when it happens. Regina George, waltzing down the hallway like she's royalty- which, by Northshore standards, she is- checks her phone, stumbles into a locker, and starts sobbing like someone's shot her. 

I'm not remotely concerned until I hear her wail through running mascara and salty tears that Aaron Samuels is dead.


End file.
